All That Mullarkey (26 page)

She managed a corner of the toast. Yuk. Sipped her coffee. Urrgh. Orange juice. Yuk-urrgh. She closed her eyes for a long minute. When she opened them, he was still watching. She pulled a face. ‘I’ve just remembered Gav’s supposed to be calling this afternoon.’ Gav had got the job he wanted, lucky old Gav, and was house hunting.

He smiled. ‘A walk should clear your head ready for the fray. Shona’s been telling me about the swings behind the village hall and how much she fancies a little go on them this morning.’

As the only vocabulary Shona possessed to support such a conversation was ‘Zwing’ and ‘high’, Cleo grinned and then grimaced. ‘If I live that long.’

Justin rose. ‘Get dressed, you’ll feel better in the fresh air. Wrap up warm.’

Maybe she did feel a tiny bit better for a tramp around the village, showing Shona the waddling ducks at the ford, stopping for a newspaper. By the time they reached the swings she felt half human. A woman with two small children called ‘Hello!’ as she left. Her blonde hair was in a roll on the back of her head.

Cleo waited until the woman was out of earshot to say, ‘I think she’s married to someone who works with my landlord. I’m going to have to speak to him about the house. I’m either going to have to move, or buy it from him and extend upstairs over the barn-garage.’

Justin kept his head down, struggling to coax Shona’s legs under the safety rail. ‘Why? Fancy being nearer Liza?’

She pulled a face. ‘No, I love Middledip, but I desperately need another bedroom. Shona can’t share with me forever. And I’ve got to be mega-careful with my funds. My rent’s reasonable at the moment. If I buy the house, it’ll destroy my savings before I even begin to extend. And I might not get permission, because the cottage is so old. I could look for somewhere bigger to buy, but would it be in Middledip? It could end up a costly second bedroom.’

Justin paused in his swing-pushing. ‘Find somewhere three-bedroomed and we could house-share.’

She felt her shoulders begin to hunch. ‘House-share?’

‘People do it. Room each, share the living accommodation, share the bills. The bonus, for us, is that Shona would have both her parents living with her.’

Cleo’s back tensed so abruptly that it actually caused her pain. ‘How lovely, I’d get the chance to vet your sleeping partners. Meet them on the landing in the middle of the night or hear bedroom noises. And how would you introduce me over breakfast? “Oh, this is Cleo, I accidentally got her pregnant once and we house-share because it’s expedient.” Piss off, Justin, it’s a ridiculous idea.’

Justin fumbled for his mobile, which had begun playing the theme tune from
The Simpsons
. ‘I’ll take that as a “no”, shall I? Hello? Yes, yes it is.
What
? You have to be
joking
…! I’m on my way.’ He thrust the phone away and began back-pedalling rapidly in the direction of Ladies Lane, eyes wide and furious. ‘That was my neighbour, Christ, can you believe it?’

He turned and began to run. ‘My
flat’s on fire
!’

Chapter Thirty

‘What’s this?’ Cleo stared at a cheque, payable to C. Reece, in the sum of seven thousand, one hundred pounds, thirty-two pence. She had the sensation that her eyes were twice their proper size and her eyebrows lodged in her hairline. She moistened her lips.

Gav smiled, pushing up his trendy specs. ‘I sold those shares. Remember that know-all financial whizz friend of Keith’s who advised us to buy shares in some communications company we’d never heard of? X something Communications?’

Cleo nodded slowly.

‘Apparently they’ve been bought by one of the dot.com giants – so I sold. Then I realised they’d been overlooked when we divided up our assets. I’d forgotten them.’

‘So had I.’

‘Celebration!’ Gav fished in his jacket pockets and produced two individual bottles of Moët, the kind Cleo saw at the supermarket and wondered who bought such meagre portions.

She stared once more at the cheque. ‘This is amazing. You could’ve kept all the money and I’d never have known.’

‘It crossed my mind,’ he admitted cheerfully. ‘Glasses?’

Cleo pulled glasses from the cupboard, causing one of those difficult moments when they used something of hers that used to be theirs, but the popping corks got them over it. Cleo spluttered, taking too big a slug of new and lively bubbles. ‘You don’t know what a difference this will make. I was afraid it was going to be something to do with your mum’s will, and then I wouldn’t have been able to accept.’

‘Oh that,’ he grinned, the light glinting off his specs. ‘She did leave me a handy sort of million quid, but I’m not sharing.’

‘Fair enough.’ She beamed, clinking his glass with hers. ‘I’ll be able to move house now. You’re a star, Gav.’

Gav inclined his head modestly. ‘A star back in your area – I’ve begun work at Hillson’s as manager of Team Cardboard Box Sellers.’ Hillson’s was a huge packaging operation.

‘So you’ve found somewhere to live?’

Gav’s glass was empty and he hunted around for the bottle. ‘With Keith, for now.’

Cleo raised her eyebrows, thinking of Keith’s Posh Pad that he’d clung on to by remortgaging in order to pay Dora off. ‘How’s that working out?’

‘Wicked.’ Gav grinned conspiratorially, though ‘wicked’ didn’t sound right on his lips. ‘He’s a right old stoat these days. Virtually always stray women about the house.’

The doorknocker rattled and Cleo rose.

‘But if you need a housemate when you move, I could make myself available,’ Gav tossed after her.

Just what she didn’t need; Cleo shook her head and opened the old wooden door. Then sighed with relief. ‘Justin, you’re OK! I’ve been trying your mobile
all
day.’ By the time she’d halted the swing and unfastened Shona’s obstinate little fingers from the chains and followed him from the park, his car had gone.

Justin stood on the doorstep, grim-faced, eyes reddened and rimmed black. ‘It’s out of charge. Can I come in? Cleo, I’m in such shit, those stupid bastards poured petrol through my door and set light – oh.’

‘Oh,’ echoed Gav.

Justin hesitated. ‘I’d better go.’

Cleo shut the door behind him and leaned on it. ‘Don’t be stupid, you’re obviously in trouble. Just sit down –’ Grizzles from the baby listener interrupted her. ‘There’s Shona. I’ll have to get her, she goes mental if I leave her once she’s awake.’ The deep silence between the two men seemed solid enough to fill the space behind her as she ran upstairs.

Shona, nap-dazed, whined and clung hotly as Cleo carted her downstairs. In the sitting room Gav and Justin were waiting, unspeaking.

Shona peeped at Gav and clung harder.

‘Hang on, I’ll get you a drink.’ She prised off Shona’s limpet arms and swung her onto Justin’s lap. Shona checked out the owner of the lap and accepted the change of venue.

‘Hey, baby,’ he said, softly.

When Cleo returned with orange juice, Shona had cheered up enough to let Justin show her one of the books that seemed to live permanently on the floor. Shona plugged the beaker spout into her mouth.

Gav launched to his feet. ‘I’ll see you another time, Cleo.’

Cleo trailed him to the door. ‘Thanks for the –’ But Gav was gone, snapping the door shut on her words.

‘Sorry,’ Justin offered. Gav had avoided his gaze, other than one, telling, filthy look; but, judging from the Moët bottles, he’d broken up a party and Gav could hardly be blamed for his antagonism.

Justin had impregnated Gav’s wife and was instrumental in breaking up Gav’s marriage. Yes, Gav had reasons not to like Justin. But, still, there had been hatred in that look.

Cleo shook her head. ‘Doesn’t matter. What the hell’s been happening?’ She poured him a glass of champagne.

It was probably Gav’s champagne but he couldn’t resist it and it was great. Dry enough to make his eyes prickle but warm his heart. He took two more gulps. ‘Presumably it’s the couple who lived in my flat while I was away, I can’t imagine anyone else doing all this disgusting stuff with shite and dead animals. But this time they meant business. The fire brigade think rags soaked in petrol were fed through the letter box, then set alight.’

Cleo put her hand to her mouth. ‘During the night?’

‘About five this morning.’ He got up to pace about, stomach churning. ‘The smoke was so thick and black that the neighbours woke up. I’ve been with the police and the fire brigade, looking at the damage and getting the door fixed temporarily. I’ll have to find somewhere to stay. Everything stinks of smoke, the whole flat is covered in thick, black, greasy grime.’ Shakily, he laughed. ‘I don’t think I’d be very well if I’d been inside.’

Chapter Thirty-One

As with most of her moments of madness, Cleo felt quite calm as she said, ‘You can carry on using the air bed in the sitting room, if that’s any good.’

He was silent, staring at her, before accepting gruffly. ‘If I won’t be too much in the way. The police say it’ll be about a month before I can move back into the flat. It’s mainly smoke damage.’ His eyes were haunted. ‘You realise that if I’d been looking after Shona there, instead of here –’

Nauseating fear shuddered through her. ‘Let’s view it as a horrible warning.’

Over the weeks, Cleo became used to adult company in the evenings and a dining companion who didn’t fling carrots on the floor. Justin was such a good guest, with his sunny moods and jokey conversation, that she concluded that offering him a place to crash hadn’t been a mad decision at all. For one thing, he didn’t mind taking a turn at putting Shona to bed, which was especially useful if, like now, Cleo had work to do.

Planning a workshop on a big pad at the kitchen table, she listened to splashes and giggles from the bathroom above, aware of the rumble of his voice and the creak and bump of his footsteps. When he trod quietly back down the stairs, she lifted her head. ‘Has she gone off?’

‘Zonked. That girl can sleep.’ He crossed the room to study Cleo’s session plan over her shoulder. ‘What’s the “Three things you never knew about me” game?’ He tapped the page where Cleo’s slanting writing ran under the
Time, Module, Description, Goal, Learning Objective
headings.

‘Just a common ice-breaking device. I sometimes use it at the beginning of a workshop. Each person has to make three statements, two of which are false, and the others have to try to spot the true one. People are so often stunned at which statement turns out to be true that it’s also a useful exercise about assumption making.’

Justin grinned as he dragged out the other chair and picked up the paper. ‘OK. then. I’m scared of dogs, I have a dagger tattoo on my bum, I believe in life on other planets.’

‘You believe in life on other planets,’ Cleo selected promptly, clicking her pen.

‘Smart arse.’

‘Well, I’ve never seen you flinch at dogs, you didn’t have a tattoo two years ago – and you’re daft enough to believe in any old crap.’ Thoughtfully, she tapped her pen against her teeth. ‘I once was arrested, I’ve blown some of my savings on a dress I can’t wear, I can speak Czechoslovakian.’

Justin turned to the inside page. ‘You can speak Czechoslovakian, I’ve heard you on the phone.’

‘Wrong!’ Cleo beamed in triumph. ‘That was Polish, you ignoramus, and I don’t speak it very well. My mother speaks it properly.’

He turned a page. ‘So when were you arrested?’

‘That’s one particular adventure I’ve escaped so far – no, I’ve bought a new dress. One I don’t need, can’t wear and ought to take back to the shop. It was a stupid impulse buy and far too expensive.’ With plenty of work clothes, jeans and tops, she ought to have been satisfied. Shona needed new clothes and shoes because she was growing like a runner bean and there were house-moving expenses anticipated as well as the permanent burden of household bills. Cleo scarcely led a wild life; definitely no new dress required.

But, oh, it had just called to her! All she’d done was cast a glance through the open shop door and there it was, its hanger hooked over a mannequin’s hand. Even the mannequin’s eyes had been fixed on it yearningly.

At half price it was still a hundred and sixty quid. Much too expensive and it wasn’t even as if Cleo had somewhere to wear it … But she’d tried it on. And been seduced. It felt so good, hung so well and she did have that lovely money from the sale of the shares. But she wouldn’t have it much longer if she blew it on extravagancies.

She pushed her fringe out of her eyes and turned back to her work, quickly becoming absorbed in constructing an evaluation chart. The boiler ticked from its place on the wall, the pages of the newspaper rustled and Cleo sucked the end of her pen.

Justin cleared his throat. ‘I have three ears, I’m nine feet tall, I want to take a look at your expensive dress.’

She laughed, without looking up. ‘It won’t fit you.’

‘Come on. I’m curious about how wonderful a dress has to be to make you part with your hoarded dosh.’

She shrugged and went up to retrieve the rustling bag from her wardrobe. The dress almost slunk out of the bag the fabric was so fluid, Ferrari red with a dull sheen. A short, hip-skimming sheath, it was sleeveless and slit from the high neck down to where broad black ribbon formed a belt just below the breasts. The dress draped like a dream, so lovely she could have kissed it.